Tongue And Groove

It’s amazing how, in London city, the buildings remain constant as the cultural geography changes around, and in, them.
Tonight we are at 123 Bethnal Green Road. Four years ago this place was a gun shop masquerading as, well, actually, a gun shop, but selling bad guns rather than good guns, if you see what I mean.
Anyhow, now, as adjoining Redchurch Street awaits the arrival of Gucci and Paul Smith, 123 has been transformed into a shopping mecca, the Liberty of the East, selling local stuff, all British goods, new designers, and cool desirables like shaving brushes (want – for no good reason, I only shave once a week, with foam).
Slowly, over the last couple of years, like tongues slotting into grooves on the wood panelling on the walls, this building and this area have been transformed into a new kind of lovely, post coked-up members club, post post modernism, post crash, post brash, some kind of understated cool epitomised by the Disappearing Dining Club events called Too Much Is Never Enough . Even though, of course, it is. But let’s forgive them their exaggeration and celebrate their dedication to exquisite detail, pure indulgence, fine food, great stuff and altogether good times.